I do not, for my own part, like the notion of keeping books cribbed and coffined under glass. They are like friends; if they can not be used freely, they are worth little. The dust will come, and finger-marks will come. Well, let them—if only the finger-mark has given a thought-mark to match it. I can not say but a little disarray of home-books is a good sign of familiarity, and that sort of acquaintance which makes them worshipful friends. Nay, I go farther than this, and would not give a shuttle cock for a home-book which I might not annotate. No matter what wealth is there already, our own little half-pence may be more relished by home eyes, than the pile of gold which retains its unbroken formality.—From “Bound Together,” by Ik Marvel.
AGASSIZ.
LEAVES FROM OUR SCRAP BOOK.
By Prof. J. TINGLEY, Ph.D.
There are stories that should never be allowed to grow old. There are lives and characters whose memory should be forever kept green—whose light and fervor should glow in the minds of men as steadily as the unfading stars. While the Father of us all has given us but one perfect model, but one example of manhood without blemish, yet, all through the world’s history, remarkable types of men have been developed, so distinct, so worthy, so far removed from the average plane of humanity as to command the attention, the respect, and even the reverence of the thoughtful of all time. They are constant reminders of the heights of power and dignity to which the immortal soul may aspire. Familiarity with the events of their lives—with the loftiness of their purposes—with the warmth and passion of their thoughts—with the achievements of their energy and wisdom—lifts us all up, inspires us with eager desire to be like them in our devotion to truth and noble effort. No one will deny to Louis Agassiz a prominent place among these immortals—these “names that were not born to die.” So recently a living force among us, the echoes of eulogy still linger with us. With many a reader of The Chautauquan his name is doubtless a household word. Not for these, but for the younger class of readers, we gather from our scrap book something about the eminent naturalist, which they may not have met with elsewhere—something perhaps that may awaken the desire to know more of him. It is to be regretted that we have not yet a complete biography of so remarkable a man. At the time of his death it was supposed that the most competent hand for such a work would give it to the world at an early day—but it has not yet appeared.
Short biographical sketches containing the leading events of his life, and giving an account of the results of his labor and studies may be found in the principal cyclopædias, and in many of the periodicals issued soon after his death. But there are volumes of incident and characteristic utterances which are scattered here and there—familiar only to such friends and admirers as cherish every line and word that has been written concerning him. Some of these we find in our scrap book.